Reverse Psychology
by WingedNinja28
Summary: After he was caught in the middle of crossfire, Danny hasn't been the same. He's been sick, his powers are acting up. Almost as if he had no control. Will the hero make it out with his secret still alive, or will Amity Park finally know the truth about Danny Phantom forever? Because it's only a matter of time before people start to figure it out.
1. Backfire

**Hey. So I had this story idea a while back, like a ****_long _****time ago. It's my first attempt at 3rd person... We'll see how this turns out. So here goes nothing.**

**Disclaimer: Nop, don't own it. If I did, I not be on FANfition.**

* * *

The clock struck 10:30 at night, meaning Danny was officially a half-hour late for his curfew _again. _That's the fourth time this week! God his parents are going to kill him/end his afterlife.

_Stupid Skulker! _Danny cursed, _I would have been _early _if he didn't drop right in front of me and declare that he would have my head on a plaque. _Danny trudged through the darkness, cradling his shoulder with indifference.

Let's just say Skulker got an update in technology.

But a dark black bruise the size of your outstretched hand is just something you would expect when you're the hero of Amity Park. His ghost side has already healed from the bruise, (along with any other cuts or scrapes from the battle), but his human side is a little slower when it comes to being on the mend. But the thing would be gone in three to five days at most.

Danny stopped outside a large building in the middle of a small, quaint neighborhood.

The structure was easily the biggest house in the area. With its miss-matched orange-colored bricks, the huge 'ops' center located directly on the roof, and its various satellite dishes that stuck up at random angels.

_Welcome home, _Danny thought to himself, casting one last glance at the bright neon '_FENTON WORKS' _sign out front, announcing to everyone exactly _who _lived in the house.

The Fentons… Well, theres Danny's parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, the less-than-famous Amity Park ghost hunters, who couldn't even catch the ghost that was living under their own roof. His sister, the ginger Jazz Fenton is a philologist to some degree, being as though she's only seventeen. And well, theres him, Danny Fenton, Casper High's very own loser. He was also Amity Park's own town hero, Danny Phantom. There was an accident one day in his parent's ghost hunting lab; an accident that Danny Fenton got caught right in the middle of. Ever since that day, Danny has had alter-ego: _Phantom_.

He's the ghost that lives under the same roof as ghost hunters, who arne't very skilled at ghost hunting… but have some pretty kick-ass weapons. He's the ghost who goes out of his way to keep Amity Park safe at all costs. But only a few people know the truth. He's only a half-ghost, half-dead. Or a 'halfa' as some call him (don't call him that, he never liked that name).

The only people who knew the truth were Jazz, and his two best friends, Tucker the techno geek and Sam the Goth. God forbid his parents ever found out_- _now_ that_would be the true meaning of chaos.

To find out that the ghost that his parents _hate _the most is their own son… Danny shuddered at the thought.

The faded teal wooden door groaned loudly in protest as he pushed it open and walked inside. Danny had hoped that he could just sneak upstairs, unnoticed by his parents.

But no such luck when he entered the main room.

His parents were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. His sister sat perched on the arm of the recliner, casting him apologetic glances. Danny's parents were wearing almost identical scowl, "Son, do you have any idea what time it is?" Jack growled. Jack was a big, almost square man with salt-and-pepper hair, and a certain love for his florescent-orange spandex jumpsuit that he insisted on wearing _everywhere._

Danny looked at his watch, "Umm…. 10:42…?" He said, knowing what was coming.

"That's forty-two minutes late mister, for the fourth time in a row! Danny boy, you are in so much trouble-" Jack boomed

"Jack, honey," Danny's more petite red-headed mother said in a soothing voice.

"There could be a reason Danny is late _again. _So, Danny," she turned to her son and raised an eyebrow, "Is there something you would like to share…?" Her voice hardened, expecting an answered.

"Um… Yeah!" Danny said, using this as his way out, "I was at Sam's, playing Call of Duty, I just lost track of time." Well, it wasn't a complete lie, in fact he had done exactly that before he ran into Skulker.

"_For the fourth time in a row?" _Maddie hissed, sending a chill up Danny's spine.

"I'm a bad time-keeper," Danny lied easily, he had gotten used to lying. It was so much easier now than before the lab accident to lie. It's the sad truth.

Maddie sighed, but she didn't look convinced, "Fine Danny, just… go clean up the lab downstairs or something. Maybe your father could show you the new Fenton Backfi-" Maddie's words tumbled to a stop when her husband leaped off the couch, grabbed Danny's arm and dragged him into the lab in their basement, screaming "Oh I can't wait to show you this, Danny boy!"

Danny cast a glare at his mother for coming up with the idea, before his father dragged him into the family's cold, metal basement-lab.

Jack led his son over to a big metal table, and displayed on it was a long, slender, silver rifle-like gun. But even in the dim light of the lab, Danny could see the bright green shimmering ectoplasm powering the gun, giving the thing a faint green glow.

Jack grinned proudly and reached for it, "What do you think, son? She's a beauty if I do say so myself."

"So what does it do?" Danny asked, not missing a beat.

Jacks grin grew wider than Danny thought physically possible, "I was hoping you would ask that, boy. This is the Fenton Backfire. When shot at one of those ectoplasmic scum bags, the Backfire short circuits their ghost powers, making them just as powerful as you or me." _Maybe as powerful as you, not as powerful as me, _Danny thought to himself, although he remained silent.

"But," Jack continued, "Mads says it's a work in progress, and there are still some bugs to work out, but as soon as it's ready I'm going to tear that ghost kid apart with it-"

"Molecule by molecule," Danny finished somewhat sadly. _And this is exactly why they can never know who the 'ghost kid' really is, _he thought to himself. The Ghost Kid, Ghost Child, Dipstick, Baby-pop, Whelp, Whelp, and Whelp were only a few nick-names his enemies have given the Phantom.

He didn't mind, that is own father would talk about tearing him apart, because Danny had the same words screeched at him daily. Whether it was his parents talking to the TV when they a segment appeared on the Phantom, or whether they screeched it at him directly while shooting at him with ecto-weapons, he always heard it.

So he just didn't care anymore.

"So, this gun… makes a ghost lose their powers?" Danny asked his father somewhat nervously, dreading the answer.

"It causes the ghosts' powers to short-circuit, so yes Danny boy, in a way the Backfire does cause a ghost to lose its powers. Well either that, or cause the ghosts' powers to go completely haywire, therefore leaving the ghost in absolutely no control… but like I said Danny, bugs! Bugs, bugs, bugs, all the guns got em'!"

Jack checked the clock, "11:03!" he exclaimed, "Well son you better get to bed, tomorrows Monday after all! So off you go boy, and leave your old man to marvel at his shiny new toy in peace!"

Danny quickly rushed up the stairs before his dad remembered to make him clean the lab like he always does.

Positive that no one was looking, Danny turned intangible and phased into his room. He plopped on to his bed and passed out the secant his head hit the pillow. Because if there's anything Danny needed at the moment, was a good night sleep.

* * *

Danny jerked awake by the obnoxious ringing sound of his alarm clock. He groaned and sat up hazily, holding the shoulder that had been hurt the night before.

He pulled on his usual white-and-red Nike shirt, some baggy jeans and red converse. He raked a hand through his unruly jet black hair, and rubbed the rest of sleep from his startling ice blue eyes.

Danny was just about to reach for the tarnished silver handle of his bedroom door when he felt a sudden all-too-familiar chill, like the room just dropped fifty degrees. Danny saw a faint wisp of bright blue smoke escape from his mouth, so he knew a ghost was close by.

He rushed to his bedroom window, on the lookout for what made his ghost sense go off, only to throw his head back in laughter.

Suspended in mid-air a copal hundred feet off the ground, was a small, chubby, delivery-boy in jean overalls and a pale blue plaid shirt. The ghost was deathly pale and gave out a faint, glowing blue aura.

The Box Ghost, a _dreaded _ghost who is nearly _impossible _to beat and send back to the Ghost Zone (The flip side to our world, where ghosts live). Danny rolled his eyes, _this should take me a good two minutes, and then I could just continue my morning as if nothing had ever happened. _

Suddenly two brilliant white rings appeared around Danny's waist. The rings moved up and down his body, transforming him into his alter ego, _Danny Phantom._

Danny caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the back of his bedroom door before he leaped out of his now open window. While Fenton had jet black hair and icy blue eyes, Phantom had pale, snowy-white hair and toxic, seen-from-space neon green eyes.

And what's a super hero without his black and white spandex jumpsuit? Danny snickered, thinking about how stereotypical he probably always looked. What with him always flying majestically on to the scene in his heroic spandex when he senses a ghost, yelling some witty banter at it and maybe blast it with a green fire-ball or two before sucking the thing back into the Ghost Zone with his 'Fenton Thermos'.

_It's what I do,_ Danny thought, still laughing to himself. He then leaped out his open window to meet the _oh-so-dangerous _Box Ghost.

Danny flew up behind the Ghost and tapped him on the shoulder, "Hey Boxy, I haven't seen you in nearly three days! Long time no butt-kick, buddy! How are the boxes and bubble wrap treating you?"

The ghost snarled, causing Danny to snicker, his neon green eyes flashing.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" The Box Ghost bellowed, in his best attempt at sounding evil, "YOU WILL FEAR MY FOUR-SIDED OF _DOOM! BEWHERE!"_

Danny rolled his eyes. He then willed a glowing green ectoplasmic fire-ball to appear in his outstretched palms. Danny threw the green ball of fire like how you would pitch a baseball.

"Batter up!" He yelled as the fire-ball hit the Box Ghost square in the chest. The Ghost stumbled back, well as much as you can stumble back when you are floating in mid-air.

Danny took out a sliver thermos with a slight glowing green hue. The Box Ghost recoiled at the sight of the thermos, acting almost as if Danny pulled out a gun.

The boy cackled, "I AM THE THERMOS GHOST!" He mimicked as he proceeded to remove the lid of the device, and aimed it at the ghost.

With the push of a button, a bright blue light engulfed the Box Ghost, surrounding him sapphire light, and pulled him into the metallic soup container. The ghost was nowhere in sight.

"BEWHERE MY CYILINDER CONTAINER OF _DOOM!" _Danny finished, still cackling.

He was just about to fly back to Fenton Works, when movement on the streets below caught his eye. He glanced down, only to see a large yellow bus, driving to his school, Casper High.

_Crap_, he thought, _it's later than I thought… I guess I'll just have to suck it up and walk. Because I will _not _show up to school in my parent's ghost hunting RV._

And with that, Danny turned invisible and flew off to another boring day of school.

* * *

**So that's that. Please review? If you see a one-shot by me pop up with the same basic idea, call it practice for my own personal gain. Muhahahaha! So should I continue? I WON'T if you don't review!(:**


	2. Lucky Shot

**_HI! SOOOO sorry this took so long! School comes first, sorry guys. But I did make this extra long for ya…! (Unintentional, yes, BUT STILL!) This took a lot out of me, and it took a lot of time and brainstorming on my part. I'm trying a new style of writing, using more metaphors and focusing more on internal rather than external conflict. Tell me if you think I got it right! Please?(:_**

* * *

_**Reverse Psychology **_

_By: WingedNinja28_

* * *

Today was just not Daniel Jackson Fenton's day.

To start off, on a day where he just might be on time for school (for once), the notorious school bully, the burly blond jock, Dash Baxter made him late for class by shoving him into a locker. In all fairness, Danny could beat the snot out of the kid without even blinking, but he's got a secret to keep.

_Well,_ Danny thought bitterly, _to make everything worse, Lancer decided to give the class our mid-term exam for English._He cracked a sad, ironic smile, _Of course, then that leads me to where I am now._ Danny inhaled the thin, crisp oxygen as he scanned the peaceful Amity Park, with its tall buildings and soft rolling hills five thousand feet below him.

_Now where is that stupid gho-_

There was a sound behind him. It broke the ongoing silence, and brought Danny out of his thoughts. It was a soft sound, and Danny's super natural hearing could just barley pick it up. It was a creaking noise, the sound of turning gears and the clanking of metal-on-metal, like a mid-evil suit of armor.

Danny spun around in the direction of the noise, and willed a glowing green ecosphere to form in his hand.

"Skulker," Danny hissed, hurling the ecto-ball through the air and straight at his invisible stalker. Suddenly, Skulker dropped his invisibility, and appeared a good five feet away from Danny's face.

Skulker grinned, and easily dodged the bright green sphere.

Skulker was, more or less, a tiny green ectoplasmic blob with a huge ego and a red-hot temper. He hid himself in a large suit of armor, and he went all out to make his appearance as threatening as possible. In his armor, Skulker literally stood tall; about the height of two grown men standing on top of each other, and about the width of three men standing side-by-side. The ghosts' fiery hair whipped around his head like a deadly, glowing green halo, and his eyes shone with wicked happiness. A menacing-looking rocket launcher was attached to his robotic arm (along with other countless weapons) and an evil smile played across his artificial features.

"Whelp," Skulker growled in greeting.

"Why can't you leave me alone for one day? I have a test to take," Danny sighed, holding off the fight for as long as possible with his 'witty banter.' As usual.

"The art of the hunt takes no schedule!" Skulker proclaimed, "For I, Skulker, the Ghost Z-"

"The Ghost Zone's greatest hunter," Danny droned broadly, cutting Skulker off. "You know, if you want a 'halfa' pelt to 'adorn your fireplace' so badly, then why don't you go kill Vlad? I'll root you on."

Skulker growled, but said nothing as he fired a bright beam out of his hand. Danny dodged and the two continued circling each other, like two deadly predators, just waiting for the right time to strike.

"You barely escaped me last time, Whelp, but don't think you'll be so lucky again." Skulker glared, his low, alto, robotic monotone voice that seemed to grow more and more sinister. But Danny only smiled, why on earth would _that _faze him?

"Get a few upgrades?" Danny shot back, his voice teasing, but with a deadly and intimidating edge.

Skulker brightened slightly, "Why yes, yes I did!" He reported, happy to show off his new weapons.

Danny smirked, "Well let's see how well those weapons really work."

Skulker's eyes flashed as he lunged, and the duo's deadly dance began.

* * *

Madeline Elizabeth Fenton grumbled to herself in frustration as she, yet again, reached for the screwdriver. She just couldn't seem to get this gun done right. Something would be wrong and Maddie would go back and fix it, only to find another problem. Maybe she should just go with what she had.

_No,_she thought, _Fenton Works makes only the best._

But it seemed like when she was so close to finishing the medium-sized silver weapon, sprawled about on the table before her, _so close_to solving the problem, it would slip right through her hands, and she eased further and further away from ever accomplishing anything. From solving what seemed like a complicated problem to her, but to anyone else was a simple equation.

_Maddie the Perfectionist,_she remembered the nick-name her roommate in college – Sally – gave her so long ago. At the time, Sally might have just been spot-on, and maybe she still was now. But it didn't matter, if this gun did what it was supposed to do, it would solve a lot of problems.

Maddie tightened the bolts, the screwdriver fitted comfortably in her hand, but it just didn't feel right. Something was off. But, lately, something always seemed to be off. Only, Maddie just couldn't seem to put her finger on what it was.

_It's like this gun_, Maddie mused, _I feel like I have all the pieces just lain out in front of me, but I can't figure out how they all fit together._Was it Jack? Maddie pushed that thought aside as soon as it came. She'd known Jack Fenton since high school, and everything just went downhill for the duo since Jack proposed just after college. If something was wrong, Maddie was 100% positive that she would be the first to know.

Did it have to do with her kids, Jazz or Danny?

_Well,_she thought, a proud smile forming on her lips. Jazz _was_ the star student of their high school, Casper High. Her score was absolutely perfect on the CAT, and she had the administrators of any IV league school anyone could ever think of practically on their hands and knees, begging for Jazz to attend their school.

But, despite Maddie's efforts as a mother and an educational coach, her beautiful, smart, talented, _perfect_daughter had grown distant. It was like she was focused on something entirely different from her usual obsessions with psychology and ghost envy. Distant…

That one word caused her to think of her only son, Danny.

_Oh Danny,_she thought, sighing aloud, _Danny, Danny, Danny, what am I going to do with you?_Her son had potential, just about anyone knew that. She knew her son had the capability to surpass anyone, even his sister! And for a while, it seemed like he was about to. But then, something happened. Danny's grades slipped, he'd been late for his curfew, and he'd skipped meals, chores, and school entirely.

She could recall in amazing detail all the times where she had seen her baby boy stumbling home, wounded and hurt. He hid himself well, but Maddie saw through that thin façade. He had become secretive, illusive, even. More and more so as the days rolled on.

He was hiding something, and Maddie hated it. She just couldn't pin another word to it.

She hated it.

Didn't he trust his own family enough to tell them what was going on? Was he scared to? Maddie couldn't imagine why, what were they going to do, disown him? Shoot him? She loved her son, her baby, no matter what. And also, none of the weapons Fenton Works created had ever worked on a human.

_But that wasn't entirely true,_the thought invaded Maddie's head against her will. There have been times when the Fenton Finder, or the Ghost Gabber, or the Boooooomerang or some other ridiculously named device has locked in on her son. Maybe the reason for that had-

A sharp beeping sound cut Maddie off from her musings and brought her back to the here and now. Her gaze snapped across the ops center, where she had worked (the lab was too dark for her current mood). Her gaze fell upon the Fenton Finder. _Think of the Devil and he shall appear,_Maddie thought with a slight smirk as she made her way over to the small device.

But before she could pick it up, she froze. Maddie didn't need the Fenton Finder for this one, she saw him. The teen-ghost "super hero" Danny Phantom was locked in battle with some other mechanical ghost. Maddie ran over to one of the large ops center windows and peered out. Phantom and his opponent were barely visible, but their bright, ghostly auras made them stand out like beacons. Like spotlights on a clear night.

Maddie fought the evil sneer that threatened to cross her lips. She just couldn't let those ghosts duke it out in her city.

Who knows? A part of her thought, maybe Phantom and his counter-part were trying to cause a distraction of some sort. Maybe to keep Jack Fenton and herself occupied for some odd reason... maybe to take the Ghost Portal? Well, that's been attempted before. To steal their weapons? Maddie had seen Phantom with Fenton Works equipment all the time. But that was something she figured that she could use as ammo for her 'Phantom is a Villain' argument in the city council.

After all, she thought, the Fentons were the best ghost hunters in town. The two could be rivaled by the Red Huntress, but she was all tech and no skill.

Maddie spun around on one heel and scanned the ops center. She spotted the small silver microphone and rushed over to it. "Jack Fenton, ecto-alert code green!" She shouted into the Fenton intercom, her voice surprisingly calm and controlled. Maddie heard a loud crash from below her feet, and she heard her husband utter a loud curse.

Maddie rolled her eyes and stepped onto a large grey circular section of the floor. "Echo-alert code green," she spoke in a clear tone, just below a yell, loud enough for the machine to hear her.

The floor from under her feet groaned and creaked loudly, from lack of care, Maddie presumed. The circle she stood on groaned and shook, and with one last squeak, it detached from the ops center and shot downward, rocketing throughout the house. This little "trip" always gave Maddie the butterflies, but that didn't matter.

In the blink of an eye, Maddie stood in the living room next to her orange-clad husband. The circular platform slipped out from under her feet, rose through a hidden and nearly invisible hole in the ceiling, and returned to its set place in the ops center.

Jack and Maddie had that feature installed as an easier, faster, and a more technologically advanced way of traveling throughout the house. _AKA_, she thought with a smirk_, __"traveling for lazy people."_She recalled her son cracking that joke when they first had it installed, but Maddie could tell he liked it.

The woman of no older than forty-seven grabbed the nearest weapon, a medium-sized ecto-gun. Twenty-two volts, not weak, but it was no Fenton Bazooka (her preferred choice of weapon, but the gun had disappeared a week or so back).

Briefly, she saw Jack's choice in weapon. She resisted the urge to snort. _Of __course_he would grab Fenton Works newest design, _Backfire._She _told_him that it was still a work-in-progress, but did he listen? _No…_

The couple raced out of the front door of their house - time to put an end to the evil white-haired, green-eyed ghost once and for all.

* * *

The Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle rocketed onto the scene just in time. Maddie gripped her gun with white knuckles, her palms sweaty with anticipation. _This time, _she thought, _this time, we got him. He won't get away from us again._

Her husband slammed on the breaks, and the GAV lunged to a stop. Had Maddie not been wearing a seatbelt, she would have flown through the windshield, and that would have completely ruined her day. She had originally vouched to drive, but her husband practically leaped into the driver seat, and beat her to it. Well, he certainly did get the two there faster. Jack grabbed the Backfire from the dashboard of the GAV.

"Let's go," his deep voice was deadly serious, a tone that he only acquired when hunting ghosts. Maddie nodded once as she slipped her dark teal spandex hood over her head and pulled her red goggles over her eyes.

She pushed open the heavy door of the car and swung out, gun at the ready as she gazed at the scene above her. The two ghosts that the Fenton Finder tracked were engaged in hand-to-hand combat, or ecto-ray – to – ecto-ray.

Bright green ecto-blasts were fired from one ghost to the other in an evil light show; beautifully powerful, and mesmerizing sinister. The robot ghost - Skulker, Maddie presumed – fired missile after missile at the ever-so-cocky yet frustratingly illusive Phantom_._They shot, dodged, and battled it out for what seemed like hours.

Eventually, Maddie saw Phantom take out a small, silver and green thermos, something she has seen him use on several occasions. With one last "witty" comment aimed at the robotic ghost, Phantom pressed a little green button on the thermoses' side and, in a flash of blinding blue-white light, Skulker was gone.

"FREEZE PHANTOM!" Maddie cried, finally taking aim at the malevolent ghost.

* * *

Danny froze. His blood ran colder than it already was. He slowly turned, only to be met with the cold-hard stares of his own parents.

You would think that they would be proud of all the good that he does. But to them, he was a soulless monster.

His mother and father both leveled their guns on him, and it was official. They were defiantly not getting anything for Mother's and Father's day from him. Before he could even blink, much less react, three small ecto-blasts escaped from the barrel of his mothers' gun.

Danny dodged with a yell, all the while thanking whatever God watched over half-breeds like him that his mother hadn't found the Fenton Bazooka (he hid that, the Fenton Crammer, the Fenton Nine-Tails, the three Specter Defectors that his parents have given him, and a numerous amount of backup Fenton Thermoses under his bed. It gave him a strange sense of peace to know that some of Fenton Work's most effective weapons and inventions were hidden in a black box under his bed as opposed to in the hands of his parents. Yeah, it's kind of sad).

But right as Danny was about to disappear and go back to school did he hear the sound of a gunshot. Acting on pure instinct, Danny ducked. But it wasn't enough. He didn't even register what was going on until it was too late. There was a flash of bright green light and the pain exploded in his side.

Danny knew what it was like to be shot. Time and time again it happened to him, almost every day. But this, this was different. It was unlike anything he had felt before. Well, scratch that. He felt like this for that brief split-second where passed through the Fenton Ghost Catcher, right before it split his personality apart. Super Danny and Fun Danny.

Despite the bone-rattling, blood-boiling, heart-wrenching fiery _pain_that rushed through his veins, setting everything it touched ablaze, Danny felt himself start to slip.

Like a scale, one of those old fashioned ones. A perfect balance until something set it off. A mere ounce of pressure set on one side would be more than enough to knock it out of balance. Out of place. That was how Danny felt, like the ecto-blast was just enough to knock _something_out of balance. But _what_exactly_? _Now that was something Danny couldn't quite put his finger on.

With one last look at his parents: his mothers' stunned expression, and the huge gleeful smile on his fathers' face, Danny took off as fast as he could, blinking the tears away.

* * *

Danny neared the outskirts of town invisibly, as far away from his parent's radar as he could manage in his current state.

The sun beat down on his back mercilessly. The pain in his side had numbed by now, but he was vaguely aware of the continuous stream of ectoplasmic blood that leaked through his torn jumpsuit.

Exhaustion started to officially take its hold on him and he struggled to stay aloft. Unable to take it anymore, he glanced at his surroundings and landed.

He was not in the best part of town - that was for sure. The windows on a lot of the old, cracked, faded, graffiti-damaged building were barred. The sidewalk was cracked as well.

There was hardly anyone out and about, oddly. But really, Danny couldn't find it in him to care.

His invisibility wavered; he found that even that simple power took a good amount of his concentration. Danny glanced down at his hand, to make sure that he was still invisible. He couldn't just show up in a bad neighborhood as Phantom with a side wound.

Danny groaned. _What's going on?_ His arm gave off a visible "heat-wave" effect. Like the waves you see on the on the sidewalk on a hot day. Danny had seen ghosts do that when they were weakened, shortly before he sucked them into the thermos.

_I need to… nap_; the simple thought was barely coherent through his muddled mind. Was that so much to ask? A nice place to just… rest. He was hurt, exhausted, confused, hot, and scarred. All he wanted was to sleep… in his bed, with the AC on… his sister in the next room and his parents down the hall.

Danny drifted into the nearest ally. It was dark, but that didn't pose as a problem for him.

Quickly, Danny glanced around. No one. He collapsed in the far corner of the ally and allowed the crystal white rings of energy to pass over him. Blue eyes replaced green and black hair replaced white.

Danny let the exhaustion take him under.

* * *

Jackson Michal Fenton should have been proud. He should have basked in his victory of finally bringing down the ghost-punk, once and (hopefully) for all.

But why did he feel such dread?

Why did it feel as though _he_were the one shot with the ecto-gun and not the ghost?

He started to think; maybe shooting the ghost wasn't a good thing. Maybe he had made one of his worst mistakes.

* * *

**_A_****_hhh done! FINALLY! This took a LOT of work on my part, and it was totally exhausting! But I'm finally done! I edited the original a bit, so I have no idea how long this is on paper. But if I were to guess… I would say around fourteen-something pages. So tell me what you think! _**

**_AND I would like to thank my AWESOME beta scaredycat324_**


	3. A Matter of Time

**Cool little fact here, I'm not dead! Yay! Happy belated Christmas! And Hanukkah! I almost made it on time... Damn... Whateves. This ficas a whole will probably be pretty light-hearted, maybe a little humorous. At least, I hope so. Sadly, this chapter came out a little more angst-y than I planned... The heart wants what the heart wants, right?**

**Disclaimer: Story (c) me  
Danny Phantom (c) Buch**

****

* * *

**Reverse Psychology**

By: WingedNinja28

* * *

Danny woke with a start.

What happened? Where was he? Wh-wha... Then it hit him. His father shot him, _his own father! _Danny winced and scrambled to an upright position.

_Okay Danny,_ he thought, _first; analyze your surroundings_. The ground under him was cold and grimy. Tall, old, and broken buildings surrounded him. He must have hazily made his way into this ally and passed out.

_Next, check the damage_. His wounded side must not have been as bad as he thought, because he reverted back into his human half right after he passed out. If Danny was hurt too badly, his body would've stayed in whatever form he was in to survive.

The halfa glanced down at the gash in his side. The blood had turned brown and crusted over, like it had stopped bleeding long ago. Danny could tell that his side was almost healed, because the searing, white-hot pain that had overcome him not long ago had faded into a dull, manageable ache.

_What the hell?_ How long had he been out? Danny knew that he was a fast healer, but this... this was ridiculous. Almost - well, he tried not to use the world impossible. Danny was _half ghost_ after all, his very existence was a contradiction!

Danny pushed those thoughts aside and got to his feet. He scraped off as much dried blood as he could, but he figured that it was pretty unsanitary to try to clean a wound with dirty, grimy hands_. _

W_ell,_ he thought as sense of relief took hold in his mind, _this could have gone a lot worse._

Now for Danny's next tack, to find his way home.

Danny walked to the end of the ally and looked at the nearest street sign. He could barely make out the chipped, faded, and spray-paint encrusted letters, Dorado.

Dorado. How the hell did he end up in _Dorado_? Dorado was on the other side of town from where Danny lived. _This coul__d be a good thing_, Danny thought.

Danny was pretty sure that Dorado would be the second to last place that his parents would look for him.The last place being their own home.

Danny willed the bright, blue-white rings to pass over his weak form and transform him into Phantom.

_There it was_.

The off feeling that Danny got when he was first shot. _S__omething_ was missing. Like a piece of the puzzle of his life suddenly dropped into nothingness, leaving nothing but an empty hole in its place. It made him feel like an unbalanced equation, one side of him more dominant than the other. Two parts of one whole fighting an endless civil war in his soul.

Well, maybe not that extreme, but you get the point.

Danny nervously glanced down at his side once more, and almost felt like jumping for joy. Just as he suspected would happen, the gash vanished. A sense of intense relief flooded through his system. He was fine. Maybe after a good, long hot shower, a warm cup of coffee by the fire, and a nice, safe place for him to stay, he would be even better! Danny forced his mind back into the present. He needed to plan his next move.

So... What now? Does Danny just go home, this nightmare forgotten about?

_Of corse not_, a voice spoke in Danny's mind. It took Danny a second to realize that the voice was his own._It's never that simple, is it?_

But what else was he supposed to do? Just sit here and watch the world pass him by? Just give up and let himself be taken down by the wolves of society? _No_. The thought was firm:_I'm going home._

With that one thought on Danny's one-track mind, he took to the sky.

Again, the same thought struck him, _what the hell is going on?_

Something was off. Danny felt weighed down. Usually whenever Danny flew, the adrenaline-powered rush of gravity-defying weightlessness would overcome him. He had always felt on top of the world when he took to the sky, nothing could tie him down. No problem, neither human nor ghost, could hold him back. When he flew, Danny was truly and utterly free.

But now... That feeling, that rush, was gone. It seemed to disappear into thin air, like half of Danny's humanity. He felt his muscles ache to be grounded. Danny's feet longed to touch the asphalt below. Something was very wrong about this.

"Well," Danny muttered, his mind spiraling into the chaos of anxiety. The hope that Danny once had, was starting to fade. "This sucks."

In his opinion, that was the biggest understatement of the century. Next to, say, _"__No Sam, I'm fine. That stupid Portal just shocked me a little. It's no big deal."_

Danny needed to focus. He needed to do one thing at a time. No distractions, no internal fights, nothing. "I need to get home," Danny chanted to himself softly. If not him, then who else was going to look him in the eye and say "Keep calm and carry on"?

His self-imposed motivation worked pretty well, too, because Danny found himself soaring up into the overcast sky with that one thought in his mind. Under the cover of the clouds, Danny sped off to the only place he knew safe.

Home.

But then again, was he ever really safe?

* * *

By the time the clock struck high noon with a mighty ring, Danny was several hundred feet above Fenton Works. He floated down until he reached the gargantuan building. The thoughts of invisibility and intangibility didn't even enter his head. He was home, and that was all that mattered.

He stopped outside his open bedroom window. Was anyone home? Well, his parents were hunting him at the moment, that he knew. His sister left for the _Illinois Annual College Fair_ in Springfield this morning, so it would be just him.

He was alone... To put it dramatically.

He almost wished that he wasn't alone, not now. He wanted someone, anyone to tell him that everything was okay. Because sometimes, you just needed someone to lie to you.

Danny flew through his window and collapsed on his bed in a crumpled heap. _Well_, he thought, _What__ now?_ He was home, but now what? He lay back in his bed and thought over the events of the past few hours.

Why couldn't his parents open their eyes? The more Danny thought about it, the angrier it made him. _Why him?_ Why was it always him? What had he done to deserve this, all of this?

The constant attacks, the abuse of his parents, the treachery of not only his crush, but also one of the only other two beings on the _planet_ that could ever understand his situation?

What had he done to deserve this life? Danny had always sat on the fence when it came to his opinions, whether it be his political ideology, or even his stance on the food pyramid (omnivorous), but now he was on the fence between life and death.

Danny tried to make the best of his situation, he was good. He tried to keep the town safe, to keep the ghosts at bay. He pretty much sacrificed his education, his free time, and one could go so far as to say his childhood for the safety of others, and his parents still thought of him as a soulless demon. Just another ghost.

All of the stress and anxiety that gripped Danny's heart for the past several hours melted into pure, blood-boiling anger.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to destroy every weapon that Fenton Works had ever created. He wanted to just get rid of anything in the vicinity that could hurt him. He wanted to- No.

The rational side of Danny's brain took over. In retrospect, in times like these, Danny was almost thankful for his only slightly split personality.

_First_, Danny found himself thinking. _You__ need to call Sam and Tucker. They will help._

Danny reached for his cell phone on his bed-side table. He slid his index finger over the rough, cracked touch screen (Danny really wasn't sure how much longer the poor white DROID 2 would hold out before finally giving up on life and breaking), and unlocked the phone. He quickly dialed up one of his two best friends and pressed send.

Sam Manson picked up on the first ring. "Danny!" She exclaimed on the other line.

"Hi Sam-"

"Danny, where have you been?!" Sam interrupted; her tone drenched rage, fear... and was that relief? She sounded like she was about to fall over from just the sound of Danny's voice. Well, at least someone worried about him. _All_ of him, that is.

Danny had barely opened my mouth when Sam spoke again.

"Wait, hold that thought." there was a series of muffled banging and shuffling on the other line. _"__Hey, that's my hat!_" Danny heard Tucker shout over the phone. There was more talking and banging, and Danny had contemplated on whistling loudly into the phone to show that his friends were both taking forever.

There was the sound of a closing door. "You guys in the janitor's closet yet?" Danny asked. Call it what you will, but this was pretty much routine. Well, aside from the shooting and the healing part. But, you know.

The ebony haired halfa heard a sigh.

"Alright Danny, start from the beginning. I'll keep Tucker quiet. No interruptions. Now go," Sam commanded, a true authority figure.

* * *

Samantha Nicole Manson's head was at a standstill. Her mind was racing for the answers that weren't there.

After Danny told his story (from his conversation with his father the night before to the present), Sam was shocked to say the least. Although the three of them had imagined something like this eventually occurring, no one really knew how to react when it happened.

And with Danny's healing. Sam figured that it was possible that he simply gained a new power. But would that really solve their problem? If anything, in Sam's opinion, that would only make the situation worse.

If the guns' specialized ectoplasm did what it's supposed to do, Danny was in a load of trouble. If Danny healed himself that fast, then that would have only locked the contaminated ectoplasm in his body. Which would only speed up the effects, if Sam were to guess.

Jack Fenton had told Danny of the effects of the mutilated ectoplasm on ghosts... but what about half-ghosts? Would the effects be worse?

Sam knew that she was probably over thinking the matter. It was probably simpler than any of them would have guessed. This was _Jack's_ invention, after all. Not one of Vlad's.

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance from across the dark janitors closet. The two of them knew that they were following Danny into an abyss that even _he_ might not be able to fly them out of.

But the life of a teenage ghost hunter wasn't always going to be as easy as shoving the Box Ghost into the Fenton Thermos, right?

Although no one made a sound, all of them knew what no one dared say. The trio knew that this, this _incident_ was far from over. They knew in their hearts that they were dealing with the biggest regress of the century. No one had to speak, the message was heard.

They were staring into the eyes of the beast of a long-kept secret. Their guns pointed at its head, their fingers on the trigger.

It was only a matter of time

* * *

**Wowwww... DONE! That was a bit dramatic...hehe sorry ^o^" I hope this chapter cleared some things up :) This fic shouldn't be that hard to understand. After all, the idea is a bit overused. I don't know when the next update will be. Possibly soon. Possibly not. Meh.  
Anyway, thanks for reading! Drop me a review on your way back to the main world offanfiction, will ya? I love to hear from you guys, it's such a great confidence builder!**

**And thank you soooo much to scaredycat324 for betaing this for me!**

**~Ninja**


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